


like two atoms in a molecule

by loushazza (noblydonedonnanoble)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Childhood Friends, Coming of Age, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:52:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4241421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/loushazza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>If Harry was being honest with himself, he had to admit that Louis Tomlinson scared him a bit.</em>
</p><p>  <em>Not in an actual, ‘I feel threatened by you,’ kind of way, of course. It was more the fact that Louis was thirteen, and clever, and loud. He was assertive and always made the decisions about what the boys would spend the day doing. It was inevitable that they would all enjoy whatever he came up with, so none of them were bothered by it, but there was still something very intimidating about someone who felt so certain about everything all the time.</em></p><p> <br/>Five lads spend their summers together in Cheshire. Harry and Louis fall in love, but of course they're the last ones to notice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like two atoms in a molecule

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my betas, [potatofuzz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/potatofuzz) and [girlwithdemonblood](http://archiveofourown.org/users/girlwithdemonblood), for putting up with me and my excessive semicolons.

I. Prologue

 

           The five boys became friends mostly out of necessity.

           That is not to say that they didn’t enjoy each other’s company; it’s simply that, if they had not come together on holiday every summer in a sleepy town in the heart of Cheshire, they probably would never have met.

           It was Harry’s mum who owned the properties. The young boy spent much of his youth begrudging the fact, as a majority of their tenants were inevitably couples without children. No families would come to stay in the middle of farmlands when they could take their kids to the beach, he reasoned, and he pointed this out to his mother often. With many of his friends gone on holidays of their own, who was he to spend all of his time with?

           This point did little to change her mind, though she always eagerly asked potential tenants whether they were planning on bringing their children with them.

           In the spring of 2005, four potential tenants finally answered, ‘Yes.’

 

 

II. Summer of 2005

 

           If Harry was being honest with himself, he had to admit that Louis Tomlinson scared him a bit.

           Not in an actual, ‘I feel threatened by you,’ kind of way, of course. It was more the fact that Louis was thirteen, and clever, and loud. He was assertive and always made the decisions about what the boys would spend the day doing. It was inevitable that they would all enjoy whatever he came up with, so none of them were bothered by it, but there was still something very intimidating about someone who felt so certain about everything all the time.

           Harry commented on this once to Liam, about two weeks after all the boys’ families moved into their cottages. The older boy was rather unhelpful.

           “Are you kidding? You should be afraid of Louis, he’s terrifying.”

           Only he did nearly mean it in the, ‘I feel threatened by you,’ kind of way.

           Might have something to do with the fact that Louis realized within two days just how easy it was to play tricks on Liam, and did it fairly frequently. But if he saw that Liam was particularly unappreciative, he would apologize.

           Usually.

           So even though, like Liam, Harry was sometimes a bit scared of Louis, he found that he still liked him. He liked his energy and he would have loved to become like that someday.

           He still made a fair amount of effort to avoid ending up with the eldest boy one-on-one, because he found that without the others around, he lost any and all ideas of what to say to Louis. If they wandered off around the countryside in smaller groups, Harry always made sure that it was Niall or Liam by his side or, if he craved a more peaceful day, Zayn.

           But then one day, around the middle of the summer, Harry asked the other boys if any of them wanted to walk to a bakery in town, and Louis was the only one who said yes.

           They shuffled along together through the woods, Harry’s hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes trained on the ground. Louis was unusually quiet as well. He whistled softly, and there was a bounce to his step, so Harry could tell that he wasn’t upset, per se. But he still seemed to be at a loss for words for the first time since Harry met him.

           “You don’t like me much, do you?” Louis blurted suddenly.

           Harry was so surprised by the question that for a moment, all he could say in response was, “What?” He repeated it, three or four times, before stammering towards a more coherent, “No, where’d you get that from?”

           “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you avoid spending time with me if the other lads aren’t around.” Before Harry could protest, Louis added, “When I was the only one that wanted to go into town, I saw you pause. And it’s… I promise I’m not bothered if you don’t like me. I’m just curious why.”

           Again, it took Harry a few moments to work toward an answer. “It’s not that I don’t like you,” he said slowly. “It’s just hard to figure out what to say to you sometimes. Most of the time.” _Almost all the time_ , he added to himself.

           “Why?”

           “You can be a bit intimidating,” Harry muttered, glancing up at the older boy. Louis looked understandably puzzled, like he couldn’t tell whether he should feel offended, and Harry rushed to continue: “Not in a bad way, just… you’re always so clever and confident and I don’t want to come off wrong.”

           Harry realized that Louis had halted about ten seconds before, and he turned to look back at him. Louis was squinting at him, regarding him with such scrutiny that it made the younger boy fidget. “What?” Harry asked.

           “What are you getting nervous about that for? You’re one of the cleverest lads I know. At least I think so, from the number of times you’ve actually talked to me.”

           “Oh, now you’re just putting me on,” Harry grumbled, turning back around and beginning to walk again.

           “Am not!” Louis jogged after him to catch up. When he reached Harry’s side, he swatted at his arm lightly. “You’re honestly scared to talk around me?”

           For lack of anything to say, Harry shrugged. Louis considered him for a moment before grabbing his wrist and tugging him off the well-trodden path. “Where are we going?” Harry asked, bewildered.

           “We can go to the bakery in a little while. I want to have a real chat.” He slid down to the ground at the base of a tree, leaning back against it and blinking up at Harry. When he didn’t move to join him right away, Louis said, “I’m not budging until you decide you’re not scared of me anymore.”

           “That’s not a very good way to start,” Harry said, a small smirk forming as he sat down against the tree as well.

           Louis grinned wide. “Says you. Tell me about yourself, Harold.”

           “You’ve already known me for over a month.”

           “Then tell me the things I don’t know.”

           Harry leaned his head back against the tree, staring up at the sky through the leaves. He bit his lip as he considered the request. Without really knowing why, he started in on a discussion of his favorite subjects in school, because school was one thing that the lads had hardly discussed. Louis listened with rapt attention, asking a plethora of questions and remaining ever-attentive and it made Harry smile, made him want to keep talking because Louis engaged him so well.

           They lingered there well past noon, and when they did get up it was only their rumbling stomachs that provoked them. As they finally made their way to the bakery, Louis returned to his normal chattering self, but Harry was now an equal contributor to the conversation.

           For the rest of the summer, the two of them were nearly inseparable.

 

 

III. Summer of 2006

 

           The five lads remained in decent contact over the course of the school year, primarily in order to ensure that they would all once again be going on holiday to that same sleepy town in Cheshire. Louis was the one with whom Harry really worked to remain in touch; not out of a lack of interest in the other boys, but because now that he’d begun chatting with Louis, he found that their conversations lasted longer. Even as they sent back and forth lengthy email chains among the five of them in which they planned out details of the summer ahead, Louis and Harry would be messaging separately about this story from school or that family event.

           Tragedy almost struck when it looked as though Zayn would be unable to come, but this was quickly remedied when Harry’s mum offered that he could stay with them, so long as Zayn had some way to get there. And when Louis’ mum offered to transport him—they lived close enough that it was no hassle, she said—everything for the summer was back on track.

           They appeared on Harry’s doorstep one after the other, and the day of their reunion was a frenzy that ended with the boys strewn about the floor of Harry’s living room on a pile of blankets, eating and watching films late into the night. They fell back into their friendship easily; though Harry couldn’t know for sure, he suspected that he and Louis were the only ones who had kept up consistent contact, but this made the group no less enthusiastic about the prospect of another summer together.

           Louis commented on this to Harry one morning, when they found themselves awake and wandering earlier than the other boys. Harry had crept out while Zayn and the rest of his family was still sleeping, eager for an early-morning walk, and though he hadn’t been seeking Louis out, when they stumbled upon one another it was a welcome development. They laid down beside one another in the grass in front of Harry’s house, the tops of their heads barely touching, and they chatted.

           “I don’t think they’ve talked as much as we have,” Louis told him then.

            “Neither do I.” Harry felt a vague sense of relief upon learning that he hadn’t been imagining the difference.

           In response, Louis hummed thoughtfully and nodded. He said nothing because for once, he was at a loss for what exactly he wanted to say. But that was fine, because Harry didn’t expect anything. He wasn’t particularly sure what to say either.

           The other lads came to find them as they woke up, and joined them on the ground and it was delightful to be sprawled out together but it didn’t bear the same intimate feeling that Harry and Louis had felt, laid out like that alone. It had been easy and touching and they both held onto that memory for years, although neither of them would ever be able to articulate exactly why it weighed so heavily on them both.

 

 

IV. Summer of 2007

 

           “Hazza, pass it here!”

           The younger boy smirked as he glanced Louis’ way and kept dribbling the football forward. “We’re not on a team anymore, Lou. You don’t honestly think you can still get me with that, do you?”

           Louis grinned shamelessly as he changed tactics and went to guard Zayn. As Harry drew closer to Louis and Liam’s side of the field, Liam readied himself at their make-shift goal. Niall, who was taking a break underneath a tree, shouted out a general exclamation of encouragement to his four mates.

           For a moment, Harry paused, halting the ball and surveying the field.

           “C’mon, Harold, we haven’t got all day.”

           “Actually, we have got all day,” Zayn pointed out.

           “Don’t encourage him.” Louis elbowed Zayn in the side to accompany his rebuke.

           Harry used this moment to his advantage and began to sprint forward, kicking the ball far out in front of him. Louis groaned, exasperated, and raced after him, leaving Zayn to trail behind them, chuckling in delight.

           The events that followed proceeded in a flash. Louis seemed to lose faith in his ability to actually overtake Harry and claim the football; in a last-ditch attempt to prevent Harry from scoring—because quite frankly, he had very little faith in Liam’s abilities as goalkeeper—he lunged forward, tackling the younger boy to the ground.

           “I call foul!” Harry exclaimed as he grunted and rolled onto his back, but he was shaking with laughter, so Louis knew that he wasn’t particularly bothered.

           Louis, who was sitting perched with his legs on either side of Harry’s hips, shrugged, completely nonchalant. “You waited until I was distracted to sprint ahead. We both played dirty tricks.”

           “Mmm, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

           “You’re so full of it,” Louis scoffed. Then, on a whim, he bent down his head and licked Harry’s nose. There was a single nauseating moment when Harry didn’t react, and when he finally burst into a renewed fit of giggles, a flutter of relief washed over Louis and he beamed.

           “Let’s go, lads,” Zayn said, putting an abrupt end to the moment. There was still a fair amount of distance between him and the pile that was Harry and Louis, as though he couldn’t tell whether he would be intruding on something by drawing any nearer.

           Louis rolled his eyes at Harry, who nodded agreeably, though he was still laughing. “Yeah, yeah, sorry.” He jumped to his feet and held out a hand to help Harry up as well. Louis clapped his friend on the back before retreating to his side of the field to commiserate with Liam. Over his shoulder, he threw out a, “Sorry Hazza, I won’t tackle you again.”

           Before recommencing the game, Harry jogged over to the tree under which Niall was sitting so that he could get some water. As he approached, Niall sat up higher, eyes filled with interest. “What just happened over there?”

           “Louis knocked me over, that’s all.”

           “From here, it looked a bit like he snogged you.”

           “Really?” This comment took him by surprise, and although it by no means bothered him, he shrugged it off. “Nah, none of that.”

           Niall nodded. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t missing something important.”

           “Don’t worry, Nialler, you’re not missing anything,” Harry assured him. He abruptly tossed his water bottle in Niall’s direction, grinning as the other boy fumbled forward to catch it.

           “Sometimes I wonder!” Niall called after Harry as he returned to the field.

           Quite frankly, Harry didn’t really understand what he was getting at. What was there to wonder about?

 

 

V. Summer of 2008

 

           Before they were reunited the next year, two of the lads got their first girlfriends.

           Zayn’s relationship started first (and, as many first relationships, ended not long after).

           Then came Louis’. Although he had known this girl, Hannah, for a while, he got to know her during their school production of _Grease_ —she played Frenchy. Harry heard a few stories about her here and there before they started dating, but suddenly she had asked him out and he had said yes.

           And, alright, Harry couldn’t deny that he was a bit perplexed. Because while Louis had been reasonably complimentary of her the few times she came up in past conversations, when he told Harry about the development in their relationship, he had legitimately said, “Yeah, she’s a lovely girl, I think I could like her.”

           Harry longed to point out that that seemed like a strange reaction to have when initiating a relationship, but not having had any experience with girls himself, he didn’t really feel like it was his place.

           So he listened to Louis’ stories about her, the few that he actually opted to tell. For some reason, he seemed relatively reluctant to bring her up; Harry wondered whether perhaps Louis sensed his indifference toward the relationship and censored himself accordingly.

           Much of the boys’ time that summer was spent discussing their romantic endeavors, successful or failed, which was something that had never weighed particularly heavy on their minds. Niall had asked out a girl and been brutally rejected in favor of a taller, stronger, and generally more fit boy. Liam had kissed a girl whom he had had a crush on, only for her to revoke her interest in him the very next day.

           In comparison, Harry just felt out of place. Not because he had no experiences of his own—indeed, he had his first kiss well before many of his other friends. But he had yet to encounter a girl who really appealed to him like he thought they were supposed to, and based on what Zayn and Niall and Liam all said about their respective trysts, Harry had never come anywhere close to feeling that same way about a girl.

           Which is why Louis’ relationship confused him even more; Harry always got the distinct feeling that everything that Louis said about Hannah only came out of his mouth because he thought that it was the right thing to say.

           Harry brought this up to Zayn about halfway through the summer, asking if there seemed to be anything off about Louis’ relationship. But even after Zayn thought it through, he just shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t really see it, I’m sorry. He seems happy.”

           “And he never just seems… empty, to you?”

           “Not so much, no.” Zayn squinted at his friend, scrutinizing him. “You sure you’re not just jealous?”

           “What’ve I got to be jealous of?” Harry asked, working hard to keep his tone level. He was more bothered by the very suggestion than he wanted to admit.

           “I don’t know. You guys are just clearly best mates, maybe it bugs you that so much of his attention is going to a girlfriend now.”

           Harry rolled his eyes. “Unlikely.”

           Despite his outward disregard for the suggestion, Harry spent the following days and weeks contemplating it thoroughly on his own time, trying to figure out whether perhaps Zayn was right.

           No, he decided. Of course he wasn’t jealous of Hannah.

           Still, though. It was as good a thought as any.

 

 

VI. Summer of 2009

 

           For the first time, one of the lads could drive.

           This was a fact of which they took great advantage that summer, and the five boys managed to wander aimlessly around all of Cheshire and beyond.

           One weekend in particular, Louis’ mum allowed him to take the car and drive to the coast with the rest of the lads.

           When developing the idea, they thought it would be a great adventure to camp while they were there. Their parents approved, since it also meant that they wouldn’t have to pay for a stay in a hotel, which would be even more expensive than normal since it was tourist season.

           But once they got there, the boys were considerably less excited about the premise. They somehow managed to construct the tents—not with any help from Louis, who plopped down in a chair after two minutes of scrambling with tent rods, and simply attempted to direct the rest of them through the process.

           They struggled to construct a campfire large enough over which they could cook their supper, so Louis drove off to pick up fish and chips for the lot of them, which they devoured eagerly upon his return.

           Niall told wretched ghost stories late into the night; in the dim firelight, Zayn pulled out his sketchbook and drew each of their profiles, in turn.

           Even though it was not discussed among the group, when they turned in for the night Harry and Louis found themselves sharing the smaller tent, while Niall, Liam, and Zayn claimed the larger one.

           Long after the other three lads had fallen silent and presumably drifted off to sleep, Harry and Louis were whispering to one another in the dark. They expressed their shared delight in the holiday, which they deemed a wild success despite the downfalls of camping.

           After a stretch of silence, Louis’ tone shifted and he began to talk about school. He’d discussed his education less and less with Harry over the years, and while the topic of conversation had been rather conspicuously absent, the younger boy had obediently avoided it as well, instead asking potentially unpleasant questions.

           But on this night in particular, as they lay together in the dark, Louis confessed to Harry just how anxious he was.

           “I just, I don’t see a future for myself in school, but I don’t see much for myself anywhere else, either.”

           The words put an ache in Harry’s gut and he silently lamented the fact that he lacked the ability to tell his friend anything that had the potential to legitimately raise his spirits.

           “You’re being too hard on yourself,” Harry told him at last. “No one can really expect you to plan out your whole future at seventeen. Or at least, they can’t expect you to stick to whatever you decide. How can you possibly know what 40-year-old Louis Tomlinson will want?”

           Louis hummed low in acknowledgment, but said nothing in response. Harry sat up and looked down at the silhouette beside him. “Are you just bothered because you don’t want to go on to university?”

           This time, the only response that he received was a noncommittal grunt.

           “Plenty of people don’t go to university, Lou. And plenty of people start out there before realizing that it’s not for them. At least you know that now. You won’t waste time in a place that you hate, just to figure that out halfway through.”

           “Yeah?”

           Harry smiled gently despite the fact that the older boy couldn’t see him. “Yeah. And if you can’t think of anything that you want to do instead, I don’t see a problem with it. You’ve got time, haven’t you?”

           Louis sat upright quite suddenly himself, and though his features were only a blur in the darkness, Harry knew that he’d improved things at least some based on a renewed lightness to Louis’ tone as he declared, “All the time in the world.”

           “That’s the spirit,” Harry murmured, reaching out in the darkness and finding Louis’ hand, giving it a squeeze.

           The briefest of moments passed before Harry felt Louis tugging on his hand and kissing him, so lightly that it felt almost like a dream.

           It lasted for no more than three seconds, but in that span of time, Harry’s stomach curled and tossed itself this way and that in his torso, and his mind bolted from one thought to the next: _but Louis’ got a girlfriend; but_ I’ve _got a girlfriend; but…_

           But he kind of didn’t mind it.

           As abruptly as the kiss started, it ended, leaving Harry with slightly quivering lips and a furrowed brow as Louis said, “Thanks, Hazza.”

           “Uh, no problem,” Harry replied, for lack of anything more profound to say.

           Ten minutes later, Louis was snoring loudly. Harry was less lucky—he found himself blinking up at the roof of the tent for a majority of the night.

           He was last to rise the next morning, and when he did wake up, it was only because Louis threw a pillow on top of him. “Get up, mate, we want to get to the beach,” he informed him loudly.

           When Harry pulled the pillow away from his face, he looked up just in time to see the older boy retreating from the tent.

           He dressed quickly, emerging within a few minutes to see the rest of the boys deconstructing the other tent.

           “Hang on, we’re staying another night. What’ve we got to take them down for?”

           “We can hardly leave our stuff unattended all day in the woods,” Liam pointed out.

           Made sense enough, Harry supposed, although with the beach now on his mind, he was frustrated by how long it took them to break down the two tents and pack all of their belongings back into the boot of Louis’ car. This frustration was only amplified by Louis’ general coldness toward him.

           Not that Louis was being mean, of course. It just suddenly seemed like he was more guarded in everything he did around Harry, and Harry would be daft if he didn’t immediately make the connection between Louis’ strange behavior and the kiss that they had shared in the dark.

           But Harry didn’t want to bring it up in front of the other lads, and for a good portion of the day, it seemed as though Louis was intentionally avoiding any moments that could result in potential privacy between him and Harry.

            As much as Harry knew he shouldn’t take it personally, he couldn’t help it. Louis had been the one to kiss him, not the other way around; he had no right to be giving Harry the silent treatment. If he wanted to forget that it happened, all he had to do was say so. Harry would be all too willing to go along with that.

            Finally, an opportunity cropped up late in the afternoon. Three of them had been swimming in the water together, but out of the blue, Niall announced that he was tired, and he began to swim back to shore. This left Harry and Louis all alone.

            Louis glanced at Harry, who was bobbing up and down a few feet away. It seemed as though he was considering a hasty departure himself, but before he could begin swimming away, Harry said, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

            The older boy looked down. “I know. I just haven’t been able to figure out what to say.”

            “Care to try anyway?”

            “I was just… I’ve felt like rubbish lately because of school, but what you said last night made me feel… lighter, I guess. Lighter and warm and my first instinct was to kiss you so I did.”

            “So you did,” Harry echoed, his voice hollow.

            For a few moments, silence. Then Louis continued: “Yeah. But I don’t… we’re not…”

            “We can forget about it,” Harry blurted.

            And Louis looked genuinely surprised. Neither happy nor disappointed, just surprised. “Yeah? Just like that?”

            “Sure. Did you expect it to be more difficult?”

            “A little bit, yes.”

            Harry rolled his eyes and splashed Louis with water, chiding him. “You should know better.”

            And as Louis grew indignant, and began to chase him back to the beach, Harry felt relieved. Because even though he still wasn’t sure whether he did want to forget the kiss, he’d do it if it meant Louis was no longer afraid to talk to him.

 

 

VII. Summer of 2010

 

            Harry didn’t forget about the kiss. Though he was able to push it to the back of his mind for the duration of their holiday, it began to weigh heavily on him and the more he dwelled on it, the more sense it made. He had long since lost track of the number of times that he said to himself, “If only I could date someone who makes me as happy as Louis does.”

            It seemed peculiar that it had taken him so long to follow that train of thought to its logical conclusion.

            He ended things with his girlfriend not long after it clicked. When he told the other lads about the break-up, they were all sympathetic and he assured them all that it was probably for the best anyway, feeling at least a little bit guilty that Louis was on his mind as he said it.

            Seven months later, only a few days before the boys were all set to arrive for the summer, Harry learned that Louis and his girlfriend had broken up as well. Not from Louis himself, though—one day he logged onto facebook for the first time in about two weeks, and saw the, “Louis Tomlinson is now single,” update, which was dated six days prior.

            Of all the ways he could have discovered it, this was one of the worst, simply because he had spoken with Louis multiple times in the past week, and Louis had said nothing about it. Harry had even asked after her; shouldn’t Louis have taken that as a clue that Harry didn’t know?

            Even though he didn’t understand, he wasn’t particularly cross. He texted Louis the moment he saw it, wrote, “Just saw about you and Hannah, mate. Sorry to hear it.”

            Louis’ response came almost immediately: “It was for the best. Honestly should have happened ages ago. Just wasn’t into it anymore.”

            At the sight of the words, Harry began to feel vaguely light-headed. It didn’t even mean anything but seeing Louis nearly parroting his own words back to him was more than he could take. He tossed his mobile aside, resolved to respond in a few hours once he could think of something to say.

            They still hadn’t spoken when, days later, the lads were set to arrive for their holiday.

            Leading up to the day, Harry had become increasingly anxious about what their initial encounter would be like, simply because they had not communicated in any way since that text.

            But as the day drew on, and Niall, Liam, and Zayn each arrived, Harry gradually grew calm. After all, it was thrilling to see them all again. Even if his reunion with Louis felt awkward—which he told himself repeatedly that it wouldn’t—at least the other three boys would be around to ease the tension.

            Harry and the other three lads had already convened at Harry’s house when Louis appeared three hours late, grumbling about flat tires and running out of petrol because their gauge was broken. The boys immediately paused their film, eager to hear about the saga, and Louis described the experience in great detail, how he had to stay with the car and keep an eye on all of his sisters while his mum went off in search of the nearest petrol station.

            Nothing felt awkward. Louis smiled at Harry and teased him and it was all normal. Harry had high hopes that the summer would progress with absolutely no sentiments of discomfort on either side as a result of… whatever it was that happened between them. (He still couldn’t quite put a finger on what that was.)

            But then Zayn asked the fateful question.

            “So Louis, how are things with Hannah?”

            His ignorance of the break-up was easily explained by his penchant for going weeks or even months without checking facebook, but as soon as he asked about it, the vibe in the room shifted. Niall and Liam looked at each other, both of them cringing, but Harry’s gaze moved quite promptly to Louis’ face, and he attempted to gauge the older boy’s expression.

            Louis shrugged casually, his eyes on the ground. “’Fraid I wouldn’t know. We, ah, we broke up about two weeks ago. Haven’t really talked to her since.”

            Upon realizing his mistake, Zayn’s brow furrowed sympathetically and he launched into a flurry of apologies, which Louis waved off with the ease of someone who—Harry couldn’t help but think—had probably been thinking of the relationship as _over_ for longer than just two weeks.

            “Do you mind if I ask what happened?” Niall asked tentatively. “I’ve been wondering.”

            And immediately, seemingly of their own volition, Louis’ eyes jolted to Harry for two moments before he looked to Niall. He shrugged again. “It just wasn’t for me. I don’t know. I’ve kind of decided to swear off girls for a while.”

            Harry felt as though all of the air had been knocked out of him. He hardly even heard the following conversation, only picked up snatches here and there. What he did know was that Louis was very conspicuously not looking at him; was looking at all the other lads except for him.

            In a spurt of sudden decisiveness, he rose to his feet. “I’m going out for a walk,” he announced.

            “What, right now?” Liam asked, bewildered. It was nearly ten o’clock at night.

            “Only for a few minutes. I want to get some air. Feel free to start the movie again, I’ll be back in a flash.”

            He only made it as far as the curb. He plopped onto the ground and stared down the dark, dimly-lit street.

            Was there any chance at all that Louis had ended the relationship specifically with Harry in mind? Was there any chance that when he had kissed Harry, it really did mean something?

            “Enjoying your walk?”

            Harry was not surprised by the sudden appearance of Louis, but he felt a touch of satisfaction in it anyway. As Louis took a seat beside him, Harry smiled, a small quirk to his lips that grew larger when he looked up to the older boy and met his soft eyes. “I am, thanks.”

            Under most circumstances, Louis probably would have carried on teasing Harry about his explicit desire to go for a stroll, but as it was, he remained quiet until: “Hazza, while I have you out here…”

            “Mhm.” Just when he had gotten his breath back, it was gone again.

            “I wanted to apologize for not telling you about Hannah. Even once I realized that you hadn’t seen, I just… I didn’t want to have to deal with something like what just happened back there—all of this sympathy I didn’t want for something that I wasn’t really broken up about.”

            “Oh?”

            Louis shook his head. “Not really. She was a lovely girl but I just don’t think she’s my type. It took me a while to come to terms with, is all.”

            Could it really be possible that maybe, just _maybe_ , Harry hadn’t fallen for someone as unattainable as he had thought?

            “Things were actually sort of the same with me last autumn,” the younger boy said carefully. “With realizing that she wasn’t really my type, I mean. I sort of felt bad by how alright I was after ending things.”

            “I feel the exact same way!” Louis exclaimed. And they grinned at one another but at the same moment, a renewed wave of guilt washed over them both for making light of their break-ups, and their smiles faded as they rushed to look away again.

            Harry thumbed nervously at the drawstring of his jumper, not sure whether now was the time when he should stand up, and help Louis to his feet, and head back inside to join the others.

            Quite possibly against his better judgment, he found that he didn’t want to go back inside. Not just yet.

            Just his luck—it seemed that Louis was of the same mind, because out of nowhere, he dropped his head onto Harry’s shoulder. “Also…” he mumbled.

            Also?

            Harry’s stomach flipped, his heart leapt. His tongue stumbled through a rushed, “Yeah, mate?”

            “While I’ve still… I mean to say, I’ve been working through exactly how to…” Louis suddenly scoffed loudly and turned to hit his forehead against Harry’s shoulder one, two, three times before settling against it again with a groan. “I’m sorry, I’m rubbish at this.”

            “No need to stress,” Harry said, sounding much more confident and casual than he felt. “You can tell me anything, Lou, you know that.”

            “I hope that’s true,” said the older boy. “I don’t know what I’ll do if you react badly to what I’d like to say.”

            “Bet you I won’t.”

            Louis nodded.

            For what felt like years, he was silent. Admittedly, it was most likely only a fraction of a second, but it drew on and on in Harry’s mind.

            “I like you,” Louis burst out at last. “Very much. That’s why I broke up with Hannah. Because I like you. Fancy you, actually. A lot. I think I have for years, and I just didn’t want to see it because I was scared about what it meant, to fancy a boy. I’m not scared anymore, though. I fancy you and it doesn’t scare me a bit.”

            The words sank in. And finally, all Harry could do was giggle.

            “Oi, I’m baring my soul here and you’re laughing about it?” Louis said, and though he was clearly trying to hide it, the hurt was evident in his tone.

            “I fancy you too, you moron.”

            “Really?” Louis sat up tall, his eyes widening in surprise as a grin spread across his face.

            Harry nodded fondly. “Of course I do.”

            With a great deal of veracity, Louis flung his arms around Harry, wrenching him into a tight hug. He buried his face into the younger boy’s neck and didn’t pull away for a long while. When he did, it was simply to press a gentle, lingering kiss to Harry’s mouth.

            Upon returning to the other lads, Harry and Louis sat close, leaning into each other as they watched films. And when they all fell asleep, sprawled out on the floor, their fingers were still intertwined.

            Very little changed after that. Harry and Louis had been so close for so long that the other lads were unsurprised by the new development, and aside from the addition of snogging and hand-holding, the pair behaved just as they had before. But it was a wonder how much more satisfied and giddy they were.

            As they neared the tail-end of the summer, Harry became increasingly distracted by the prospect of Louis’ departure. He wasn’t concerned about their ability to remain close once Louis was gone; they’d got on fine every other year. But it had taken him no time at all to become accustomed to seeing his boyfriend first thing in the morning. Waiting nine months to see him again would be torture.

            This was evidently on Louis’ mind as well, because about two weeks before the lads and their families were due to leave, he pulled Harry aside after lunch so that they could have a chat.

            First thing, he rushed to assure Harry that there was no problem.

            “You promise?”

            Louis smiled fondly. “Promise. I just… I’ve had this idea for a little while now, and last night I finally ran it by me mum. Now I want to hear your opinion, but I didn’t want to bring it up in front of the lads.”

            “Oh.” Harry’s features softened as his concern dissipated. “Alright. What is it?”

            “So you know that I’ve decided to work for a year or two before going to uni.”

            Harry nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

            “Well…” The older boy trailed off and crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly shy. “How would you feel if I came and worked around here, maybe? I’ve already looked into a few jobs and found a few flats that I think I could afford and my mum has agreed to it and thinks it sounds like a lovely idea so really it just comes down to whether you—”

            “Yes. Yes yes yes. For fuck’s sake, Lou, you can stop babbling, I think that would be brilliant.”

            Louis immediately lit up. “You do?”

            “Nothing could make me happier.”

 

 

VIII. Summer of 2011

 

           Although the flat that Louis settled on was far from spacious, the following summer it became the regular haunt for the lads when they were not carousing all around northern England. They took to hanging about even when Louis was off at work because they savored the privacy that it afforded them.

            It was rather clear to the others that Harry as good as lived in the flat too. As though the plethora of additional hair products and the wide array of his clothes in the wardrobe didn’t give it away, there was an ease to their interactions in the space that could have only come from countless nights spent in together.

            One evening, sometime in late June, Louis, Liam, and Zayn had all run out to fetch some takeaway, leaving Harry and Niall alone in Louis’ flat. For the most part, they were enjoying an amiable silence, content to sit in the same room watching television.

            Niall, however, took the opportunity to raise a question that he’d been wanting to ask for what felt like ages.

            “Do you ever sleep here?”

            Harry looked over at him, brow furrowed. He did not seem shocked or unnerved by the question—rather, it was Niall’s abrupt outburst that left him a bit perplexed. “What?”

            “I was just wondering if you ever stay here overnight. I mean, when it’s just you and Lou,” Niall rushed to add.

            “Oh. Yeah, sometimes.” Harry shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, but a satisfied little smile appeared that he couldn’t suppress.

            “Yeah?” Niall grinned too and let out a little laugh. “What does your mum think of that?”

            “She’s had a while to adjust to the idea. I think it made her anxious at first but… well, you know, Louis’ kind of a special case, you lads being practically family and all. And he comes ‘round sometimes, too. I think that helps. Reminds her that Louis and I are just the same as we’ve always been.”

            Niall snorted loudly. “Right, aside from the snogging, groping, and shagging bits.”

            “What’s this I hear about shagging?”Louis asked as he, Zayn, and Liam filed back into the flat, arms laden down with bags.

            “Nothing, nothing. Harry and I were just talking about you, is all.” Niall hoisted himself off the sofa and reached out to help Harry up as well so that they could go join the other boys for dinner.

            “It’s all lies!” Louis shouted from the kitchen. A brief pause. “Unless he’s telling you that I’m an all-out sex god, in which case that is 500% true.”

            “Right, I was just getting to that bit,” Harry said lightly. He strode up to Louis and leaned against him, rested his chin on his shoulder to get a glimpse at the boxes that the older boy was removing from a takeaway bag. “What are we having tonight?”

            “Uh, we got—hang on, what are you leaning on me for? Are you standing on your toes?”

            Harry chuckled. “Not so much.”

            Louis spun around and scanned Harry from top to bottom, leaning back against the counter so that he could size up his boyfriend properly. “We talked about this, remember? You’re not allowed to get taller than me.”

            For the first time, Liam entered into the conversation. “Y’know, I thought Harry had gotten taller. Zayn, didn’t I tell you that Harry was looking taller?”

            “I think I do recall your mentioning something along those lines…”

            “Very funny, lads. I don’t think you understand; this is serious business. If Harry’s not careful he’ll end up towering over me.”

            “No! It won’t come to that,” Harry declared. “I’ll stay this height forever. Or shrink, even.”

            “Promise?”

            “Mhm.” Harry nodded, and managed to hold a very stern expression until Louis cracked a smile and gave him a small, chaste kiss; he couldn’t remain serious after that, and he giggled into Louis’ mouth.

            “How romantic. Now, if the lover boys are done flirting, I’d like to eat,” Niall announced when they didn’t pull back after a few seconds.

            At this comment, Harry did end the kiss, and he pushed away from the counter to give Louis space to pull out all the food. “You don’t let us have any fun, Nialler.”

            “The two of you can snog all you want. It’s when you get in the way of my dinner that I’ve got a problem with it.” Moments later, a container was shoved into his hands, and Niall retreated back into the living room with a flippant, “Right, carry on.”

            Louis pressed a celebratory kiss to Harry’s temple before they grabbed food for themselves and went to join the others.

            That night, the boys had an impromptu sleepover at Louis’, which was brought about primarily because Niall and Zayn both fell asleep on the sofa and Louis didn’t have the heart to wake them—though he did feel compelled to scrawl a quick doodle of a dick on both of their faces.

            Harry drifted off next; it seemed as though one minute he was chatting coherently with his mates, and the next his head was drooping onto Louis’ shoulder. Louis clambered out of the chair that they were sharing, and laid a blanket over the younger boy before crossing the room to join Liam where he was sitting on the floor, right up close to the television.

            “You two are really looking proper domestic,” Liam said carefully. His eyes were trained on the telly as he said it.

            “I guess we are, aren’t we?”

            “What’s that like?”

            Louis took a moment to consider the question before turning to look at his friend. “It’s just… nice, I guess. Like, if you had asked me two years ago what I’d think about settling down with someone when I’m 19, I’d have called you crazy, but now I really think I could.”

            “That’s wicked, mate.” Liam glanced at Harry, who shifted in the chair and mumbled something. “What about Hazza? How does he feel about it?”

            “I haven’t brought it up. He’s… he’s 17. He’s trying to figure out his uni plans, I don’t need to distract him with vague notions about building a life together. I don’t want him to feel like he’s gotta factor me into his plans.”

            “He probably already is.”

            “Shit, do you really think so?”

            Liam smirked. “I do. And y’know, even if it wasn’t on his mind, I bet it’d make him pretty damn happy to hear that you can see this as a rest-of-your-life sort of thing.”

            Even the minimal glow off the television was enough to showcase the blush creeping up Louis’ neck. “Maybe you’re right,” he agreed.

            Not long after, more shifting from the other side of the room alerted Louis that Harry was stirring. “Lou? Where’d you go?” His voice was soft, rough from sleep.

            Louis scrambled up from the floor. “Hazza, I’m here. Wanna move to bed?”

            “Mhm.” He eased himself out of the chair, blanket still wrapped around him, and when he rose to his feet Louis was standing right there, waiting with a fond smile.

 

 

IX. Summer of 2012

 

            Even after his chat with Liam, it took Louis more than a few months to initiate a talk about the future. There was something so easy about their current circumstances that he often forgot for days at a time that things wouldn’t remain that way forever—that in less than a year, Harry would be going off to school somewhere else.

            It wasn’t something that they discussed much, Harry going to uni. Not because Louis was uninterested, but he suspected that Harry might feel bad bringing it up, what with the fact that Louis had opted to side-step that part of his life, at least for the time-being.

            When he did feel compelled to bring it up, it was prompted by a comment from Harry’s mum at the dinner table one evening, something completely innocuous about Harry needing to settle on someone for a letter of recommendation. And although they glossed over the subject rather quickly, it was enough to remind Louis that he and Harry needed to discuss the matter themselves.

            He mentioned it later that night, when they were cuddling in Harry’s backyard and looking up at the stars.

            “What do you see in store for us once you go off to uni?”

            And Harry started, sitting up to stare at him in alarm. “Wha – what do you mean? I…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I guess I’d sort of imagined… oh, I don’t know.”

            “You imagined what?” Louis was trying his best to make his tone gentle and reassuring, but also so that Harry couldn’t hear just how unnerved he was, too.

            “That maybe you’d just come with me? Wherever I went, maybe you’d want to come too.”

            Oh.

            Louis’ mind raced. The thought had occurred to him once or twice, but he had never bothered to entertain it very seriously. Something about the notion unnerved him somehow, though he couldn’t for the life of him articulate why.

            “I… I might do that,” he said carefully. “I’ll have to think about it.”

            “Right, sure.” Harry’s voice was hollow as he laid back down against Louis, and the older boy’s heart sank.

            “But don’t you dare for a second think that means I don’t want to be with you,” he rushed to say, jabbing Harry in the ribs with his index finger. “I just have to think about what my next step should be. I can’t just…” He trailed off.

            Can’t just keep working a low-wage job that he’s nearly been sacked from more times than he can count.

            Can’t just follow aimlessly in Harry’s footsteps for their entire lives.

            Can’t just go on feeling rather useless.

            “Whatever I do, I want you to be by my side,” he said at last. “Just… it might be from a few hundred miles away.”

            Harry giggled into Louis’ shoulder. “Okay. We can talk about it again soon.”

            They didn’t.

            More months passed. Niall and Liam and Zayn arrived like clockwork with their families, and the boys frittered their summer away, and Louis still did not bring up his plans for once the summer was over.

            If this bothered Harry at all, he didn’t let it show. On the contrary, he seemed happy, full of life, and mostly preoccupied with his uni plans.

            Meanwhile, Louis was fraught with anxiety. He finally felt ready to reconsider going back to school, but it was too late to apply for the autumn, so for the time being he was confronted by several options: follow Harry and find a new job close to his school; stay in Cheshire and continue on working; or move somewhere else. Back home? To London?

             None of it appealed. The thought of tagging along with Harry left him feeling depressed and helpless—he swore when he was very young that he would always be independent, be the one to decide where he went and what he did. He wasn’t sure whether he could stand to make an exception, not when he couldn’t stop thinking that it’d mean giving up on himself.

            Staying put and waiting on his ass for Harry to come home felt, if anything, even more pitiful.

            On the other hand, he couldn’t bear to consider moving back home, or to any other city, really, because he suspected that doing so would be a massive step in giving up on him and Harry. And of all things, he certainly did not want to do that.

            He floundered, and he avoided the subject. When any of the boys brought up uni, he found an excuse to leave the room, just to keep the future off his mind. After all, he thought about it plenty in the wee hours of the morning, when he was lying awake in the dark with Harry sleeping peacefully beside him.

            Things were made worse by the fact that Harry didn’t pry. He seemed perfectly willing to give Louis as much time as he needed to decide precisely what he wanted to do.

            It was all more than the boy could stand.

            Harry left it alone all summer. Zayn and Liam and Niall left like they came and the start of the school year drew closer until finally, two weeks before Harry was due to leave, he couldn’t let the matter rest any longer.

            They were sitting outside in the late afternoon, having taken a walk in the woods and stopped to take a break. It was a fairly bleak day, with the sun only occasionally peeking out between the clouds, and Louis was sporadically dozing with his head on Harry’s chest.

            “So have you thought about what you want to do?” Harry asked.

             “Well, I was thinking pizza. Does that sound alright?” Louis yawned loudly and snuggled closer to him.

            “No, that’s not… I meant this autumn. Have you thought about what you want to do while I’m at uni?”

            As soon as the words registered, Louis stiffened. “Oh, that.”

            “Yeah, I was just… curious. We agreed to talk about it later but later never really came so I thought I would—”

            “Right, yes, of course.” Louis sat up straight and shifted so that he could look at Harry directly. “I owe you an answer.”

            Harry waited patiently, saying nothing.

            Louis looked down, fiddling with the zip of his jumper as he thought through what he wanted to say. As much as this decision had been on his mind, he still hadn’t settled on what he wanted to do. But he didn’t want to stall and leave Harry waiting any longer.

            “I’ve given this a hell of a lot of thought,” he said slowly. “And I… I want to be here for you. Support you in any way I can. If you think that means coming with you, then I’d be glad to.”

            This response filled Harry with such joy that he tackled his boyfriend to the ground in his rush to shower him with kisses. And Harry’s satisfaction was almost enough to dispel Louis’ lingering, nagging feeling that he was somehow betraying himself.

            It was _almost_ enough.

 

 

X. Autumn of 2012

 

            Louis was miserable.

            He spent longer than expected trying to find a new job, so for nearly a month, he felt entirely useless, just as he’d dreaded he would. Things were made even worse because this overlapped with Harry’s first few weeks of school, when he was full of stories about his classes and the people he was meeting, and Louis was painfully aware that he existed outside of this new portion of Harry’s life.

            For the first time, the two of them were officially living together, which brought about a whole different layer of stress because they were having proper rows for the first time, too. And although Louis understood that such things were sometimes inevitable in a relationship, it certainly didn’t help that Harry’s homecoming, the thing Louis most looked forward to every day, was sometimes ruined by arguments over frivolous things.

            Harry recognized Louis’ distress, although he attributed it solely to his struggle to find a job. So he spent a lot of time encouraging Louis to try to find things that made him feel more useful, and maybe to use his free time to his advantage by really settling on a few universities to apply to.

            Except making uni plans presented another problem, perhaps the most significant of them all. Louis knew that Harry was probably imagining that the two of them could just both attend the same university, but he couldn’t help being scared that he wouldn’t get in. His A levels weren’t particularly bad, but other than drama, his scores had been rather mediocre. The fact that he had taken a two-year break from school and done nothing of consequence didn’t do much to recommend him, either.

            In a fit of exasperation, desperate for the opportunity to do something on his terms, Louis texted Harry one Friday afternoon: _When are you done for the day ?_

            Harry responded within a minute. _Class ends in half an hour . Are you planning something ?_

            _Wouldn’t you like to know ._

            Louis pulled up outside of the building of Harry’s last class to find his boyfriend waiting on the curb. Harry raced into the car and quickly pecked Louis on the cheek before, “So what are we up to?”

            “I wanted to get away for a night, so I thought we could go camping. Does that…” He glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eye. “Does that sound alright to you?”

            “That sounds like a great idea, Lou! But I haven’t got a change of clothes.”

            “All taken care of.” Louis gestured to the back seat, and Harry looked back to see a stuffed rucksack and a cooler, which he assumed held some food. “There’s a tent and sleeping bags in the boot, too.”

            “What, two bags? Getting shy all of a sudden, Lou?”

            Louis smirked slightly and moved his hand from the gear shift so that he could gently pat Harry’s thigh. “Not at all. Just didn’t want to be too presumptuous.”

            In return, Harry took hold of Louis’ hand, threading their fingers together. “I’m pretty sure there’d be no point to going camping if it didn’t result in us sharing a sleeping bag under the stars. It’s like a rule.”

            “Oh! Okay. We don’t want to break the rules.”

            “I’m glad you understand how dire the situation is.”

            “Certainly. Practically life or death.” Louis giggled and pulled Harry’s hand up so that he could kiss it, but his smile was empty.

            They arrived at the campgrounds in the early evening and staked out a spot relatively close to the car park. By some miracle, they got a fire going, and they sat in front of it late into the night, mostly because they were so proud of their craftsmanship that they couldn’t bear to put it out. Finally, though, the boys became drowsy, and they retreated into their tent. They both snuggled into _one_ sleeping bag, just as Harry promised.

            Harry fell asleep quickly, but Louis did not. Furthermore, without Harry awake to talk to his focus immediately shifted back to all of his troubles, and he found that he was once again wide awake.

            Louis took a deep breath before slowly, gently extracting himself from the sleeping bag and crawling outside.

            It was chilly out, and even wearing his jumper, Louis was shivering slightly, but he ignored the cold as he laid down in the grass directly outside of the tent. He clenched his fists and tried to keep tears from welling up in his eyes as he peered up at the sky, looking through the leaves to get a glimpse of the stars.

            “Everything is rubbish,” he announced to the void.

            Much to his surprise, the void answered back with a groggy, “What are you talking about, Lou?”

            Louis cringed, shutting his eyes tight and exhaling. “Nothing, love! It’s alright, go back to sleep.”

            For a moment, he actually thought that Harry was going to listen, but a soft rustling proved him wrong and soon enough, Harry was emerging from the tent as well. He sat cross-legged on the ground right next to Louis, sitting even with Louis’ torso, which he proceeded to prod at gently with one finger. “Talk to me,” he instructed.

            “S’nothing to talk about,” Louis mumbled.

            “I don’t believe that. You’ve been miserable lately and I thought you were just stressed about finding a job and planning for uni but it’s something more than that, isn’t it?”

            Louis grunted, noncommittal.

            Harry reached for Louis’ hand but hesitated at the last second, with his fingers barely brushing Louis’ knuckles. “This isn’t about… you and I are okay, right?”

             “What? Oh God, Harold, you and I are fine. You’re the only thing in my life that’s going right.”

            “Okay.” Harry stroked his fingers up Louis’ arm and, after a moment’s thought, he went to brush the older boy’s fringe out of his face. “Maybe we can talk about the stuff that’s going wrong, though. If you like.”

            And Louis really was on the brink of shrugging it off. Of saying that it didn’t matter, that he could handle it by himself.

            But in the blink of an eye, his face crumpled and he started to sob.

            Harry’s eyes widened slightly in surprise—Louis was not exactly a regular crier—but even so, he leapt into action immediately, tugging his boyfriend into a suffocating hug and holding him silently while he cried.

            When he began to calm down, he was quiet for a few more minutes. Then he spoke, so softly that Harry barely heard him. “I feel like a failure. That’s what’s wrong.”

            Over the course of the next hour and a half, Louis described his plight in detail. At points he teared up again, and Harry waited patiently each time until he was ready to keep talking again.

            “Why’d you come with me, then?” Harry asked. “If you thought you’d be unhappy, what made you do it?”

            Louis actually laughed out loud, gazing at his boyfriend with soft eyes and a warm, albeit shaky, smile. “I figured it’d be better than not having you around. You’re the only thing about my future that I _am_ sure about—you can bet your ass I’d hold onto you pretty tight.”

            “No, don’t say that, that’s not fair.”

            “What? Why?”

            “How am I supposed to convince you to go home with words like that floating around in my brain?”

            The older boy froze. “What do you mean? I am home.”

            “Lou, you said yourself that you’re miserable here. Maybe if you went back to Doncaster for a little while it would help you to clear your head and get a better grasp of what you want.”

            “But I don’t want to move back there.”

            Harry chuckled. “Not what I meant. Go home for a visit. I’m sure your mum and sisters would love to see you and I just… I don’t like that you’re hurting like this. It could help give you a different perspective and as much as I wish I could do that, I don’t feel like I’m the best person for the job.”

            “Perhaps you’re right,” Louis said quietly. He nudged his boyfriend with his elbow. “How’d you get to be so insightful?”

            For a moment, Harry seemed too reluctant to answer. “To keep up with you,” he said at last. “That’s all I ever wanted: to keep up with the loud, confident boy from Doncaster who sat me down in the middle of the woods and demanded that I open up to him.”

            Louis smiled, and was grateful that it was so dark because it meant that Harry couldn’t see him blush. “I haven’t thought of that in ages.”

            “I think of it almost every day. You’re… you’re really special, babe. I thought so then and I think so now, even though you might not be so sure. And that day meant the world to me because you made me feel pretty special, too.”

            “God,” Louis breathed, “We’ve become such saps in our old age.”

            “Pretty sure we’ve always been like this.” Harry fell silent for a few moments. “I think I’m going to go to bed. Do you want to sit out here for a little while longer, or come in with me to sleep?”

            Just the question was enough to make Louis well-aware of how exhausted and weary he felt, of how much he was struggling to keep his eyes open. “Sleep,” he agreed immediately. “Sleep would be good.”

            That night, Louis got the best sleep he’d had in months.

 

 

XI. Epilogue

 

            Louis started uni the next autumn. He didn’t select the same school as Harry, although the two of them were close enough that with the number of weekend trips that they made, it hardly felt like they were separated at all.

            After several long chats with his mother on the subject, Louis decided to pursue the one career that he could think of without his stomach tying itself up in knots, which was how he ended up becoming a primary school drama teacher. Two weeks into his first classes at uni, he realized how much he was genuinely enjoying it and he dove headfirst into his studies, thrilled to have stumbled upon a career that didn’t make him feel like he was settling.

            Harry took a degree in English—his intention was also to become a primary school teacher, although he postponed his search for a position during the year following his graduation, which he spent living with Louis while he finished his own degree.

            The five men continued to converge on some spot or another every summer. It was still Cheshire for a few years, although that became less practical as first Liam, then Harry and Louis took jobs in or around London. Zayn and Niall visited when they could, although it was for shorter spurts of time and their holidays could not always overlap.

            Harry and Louis officially got married in August of 2017; the following June, they adopted their first child. The first of many.

            Together, the family visited Harry’s mum often, although they never stayed for their full summer holidays. Even so, Harry and Louis’ children became quite familiar with the lads’ old haunts, and the stories that accompanied them. Stories told again and again.


End file.
